— There won’t be a wedding.
— It’s April Fools’ Day—I don’t believe anyone. Is this another joke? — Zoya looked into her fiancé’s eyes in surprise.
— No. I’m completely serious. Completely…
Zoya was sitting in the living room of her fiancé’s house, still recovering from her younger sister’s morning prank. The sixteen-year-old had managed to convince the whole family that she was “pregnant,” only admitting after half an hour of hysteria and an emergency family meeting that it had been an April Fools’ joke. The day promised to be full of similar “surprises.”
— Sit down beside me, — Ruslan said as he entered the living room and closed the door behind him.
Zoya was puzzled—she was already sitting down. But her fiancé did not seem to notice the obvious. He began pacing nervously around the room, sometimes stopping in front of her and sometimes turning toward the window. His hands clenched into fists and then relaxed again. He kept opening his mouth as if he were about to speak, only to fall silent and rub a hand over his face.
“He’s going to prank me too,” Zoya thought as she watched his theatrical agitation. After her sister’s morning performance, she was ready for anything.
At last, Ruslan sank heavily into the armchair opposite her and said slowly, without raising his eyes:
— There won’t be a wedding.
A chill ran through Zoya from head to toe. Her sister’s jokes were instantly forgotten.
— What happened? — Her voice trembled. She jumped up, hurried over to him, and knelt beside the chair. — Ruslan, explain! What happened?
Her heart was pounding so loudly that it seemed the entire house must be able to hear it. Her hands were shaking. But when she looked into his eyes, she suddenly noticed the familiar mischievous sparkle he had never been able to conceal.
She understood immediately, feeling both relieved and furious at the same time.
— You! — Zoya burst out laughing, though the laughter sounded hysterical. — My God, you frightened me! I thought…
Larisa, Ruslan’s sister, rushed into the room. Zoya’s loud voice had evidently attracted her attention.
— What’s going on here? Who was shouting? — she asked, looking at them anxiously.
— There won’t be a wedding, — Zoya answered with a smile, still not completely recovered from the shock.
— What the hell?! — Larisa exploded. — My dress is already finished! I’ve bought my shoes! I want to dance, celebrate, and have fun! Ruslan, you have to marry her! Do you understand? You have to! I’ll never get another chance to attend a family wedding!
Victoria Alexeyevna, Ruslan’s mother, walked calmly into the living room.
— What is all this noise? — she asked as if scenes like this happened there regularly.
— Mom, just listen to this! They don’t want to get married! — Larisa blurted out.
Victoria Alexeyevna studied her son carefully and then nodded slowly.
— Well, if you’ve come to your senses, that’s reasonable. Better before the wedding than afterward. — She turned to Zoya, and unexpectedly warm notes entered her voice. — Don’t worry, my dear. There’s no need for hysterics or drama. You’re young and beautiful—you’ll find a worthy man. And remember, you will always be a welcome guest in our home, just as our Oksana was.
Barely managing to suppress her laughter, Zoya approached her fiancé, gently put her arms around his shoulders, and kissed him on the cheek.
— You look so tragic that anyone would think you’d really decided to leave me. Don’t ever do that again. One day I might believe you, and then there really won’t be a wedding.
Larisa finally understood.
— This is a prank?! — Her eyes flashed. She ran over to her brother and began pounding his chest with her small fists. — You miserable jerk! I believed you! I was already imagining how I’d have to sell my new dress!
— All right, all right, we’re leaving, — Ruslan said. He stood up, took Zoya by the hand, and pulled her firmly toward the door.
As she passed her future mother-in-law, Zoya heard quiet words intended only for her:
— Don’t be upset, my dear. You aren’t the first, and you won’t be the last. Men are like children—they love doing foolish things like this. If you ever need a heart-to-heart talk, come and see me. My home will always be open to you, and I will always listen.
Zoya glanced back in surprise. Had Victoria Alexeyevna still not realized that it had been a joke?
But Ruslan was already pulling her toward the door.
— We definitely need to leave before they think of another prank.
Zoya’s phone rang in her pocket as she and Ruslan walked along the path after visiting his family. She took it out and, seeing a familiar name on the screen, moved a little farther away.
— Hello?
— Hi, Zoya! — Timur’s familiar voice sounded surprisingly cheerful.
— Hi, — she replied, noticing from the corner of her eye that Ruslan had stopped and politely turned away to let her speak privately.
— How are you? How are you feeling? — Timur asked.
— Everything’s great. What about you?
— I’m doing well too. Listen, I have a proposal for you, — her ex-boyfriend said seriously. — Marry me.
Zoya laughed brightly.
— Of course! As soon as I get divorced, we’ll go straight to the registry office!
Timur chuckled quietly.
— Damn, I almost believed you.
— I love you, — Zoya whispered, — but in my own way, as a friend. Don’t be upset. We’ll definitely see each other at the wedding. You haven’t forgotten, have you? It’s in a week! I’ll be waiting for you. Just please don’t be angry with me.
— I wish you happiness, — Timur replied seriously. — But my proposal still stands. It has no expiration date.
— You’ll be first on my list after the divorce! — Zoya laughed.
— It’s a deal, — Timur replied with a smile in his voice. — Good luck!
Zoya ended the call and returned to Ruslan. Her fiancé was staring into the distance with a gloomy expression.
— What’s wrong? — she asked, trying to catch his eye. — You aren’t jealous of Timur, are you? He was just congratulating me on the upcoming wedding!
Ruslan silently shrugged.
— Do you remember how he decided to prank everyone last New Year’s Eve? — Zoya continued, trying to lighten the mood. — He went to his neighbors dressed as Father Frost and told them their apartment had been selected for filming a New Year’s commercial. They spent two hours preparing, dressing up the children, and moving the Christmas tree!
Ruslan did not smile. They continued walking in silence.
The phone rang again. This time, Ruslan did not even turn his head, which surprised Zoya. He usually complained when people called her too frequently.
— Kira! Hi! — she answered.
— Zoya, where are you? — Kira sounded slightly annoyed. — We agreed to meet for lunch!
— Oh! — Zoya gasped. — I completely forgot! I’m coming right now!
She ended the call and turned to her fiancé.
— Sorry, I completely forgot that I promised to meet Kira. She wanted to lend me her shoes. Remember I told you about them? The gold-colored ones. I’ve been looking for shoes like that everywhere, but I couldn’t find any.
— Yes, go ahead, — Ruslan replied calmly. — Bye.
He immediately turned around and headed in the opposite direction.
— Wait! — Zoya called. — Haven’t you forgotten something?
Ruslan stopped and looked at her in surprise.
Zoya puckered her lips and smiled mischievously.
— Oh, that… — Ruslan understood. He walked over and kissed her on the lips.
— All right, we’ll make up for it tonight, — Zoya said. — You go wherever you were planning to go, and I’ll run to meet Kira.
She turned around and hurried toward the bus stop, waving goodbye.
Half an hour later, Zoya met Kira at an intersection near a shopping center. Her friend immediately ran over and linked arms with her.
— Hurry! — Kira exclaimed, pulling Zoya toward the bus stop. — Seryoga—you don’t know him, but he manages a shoe store—says they’ve received a new shipment of women’s shoes. Apparently, there are some gold-colored ones. You can take a look and see whether you like them.
— It’s wonderful having friends who work in stores! — Zoya laughed, quickening her pace.
— He’s just an acquaintance, — Kira said with a smile. — I sent messages to everyone asking whether they’d seen gold shoes. Aunt Klava even said she had a pair of boots. But I assume you aren’t planning to wear boots to your wedding?
— That would be a little too much! — Zoya laughed.
They reached the bus stop just as the bus they needed arrived. Once they were seated, Zoya turned to her friend.
— Can you believe Ruslan almost gave me a heart attack today? As if Inga announcing she was pregnant this morning wasn’t enough…
— Pregnant?! — Kira interrupted. — She’s still in school!
Zoya giggled.
— It was a joke.
— I’d have smacked her on the back of the head for a joke like that! — Kira said indignantly. — Some things shouldn’t be joked about!
— You don’t even know what Ruslan did, — Zoya said, shaking her head.
— Don’t frighten me. I don’t have any sedatives with me! — Kira theatrically covered her eyes with one hand.
— All right, listen. He announced that there wouldn’t be a wedding.
— That’s even worse! — Kira gasped. — Are they deliberately trying to give you a heart attack? It sounds as if they planned it together!
Zoya giggled.
— His sister Larisa believed him and nearly beat him up. She kept shouting that her dress was already finished and that she’d bought her shoes.
— I definitely would’ve slapped him! — Kira said heatedly. — Imagine coming up with something like that—frightening you with a breakup one week before the wedding! Does he really not understand that some things shouldn’t be joked about?
— His mother behaved strangely, though. It actually frightened me a little, — Zoya said with a frown.
— Did she announce that she was getting married? — Kira suggested.
— If only! It seemed as if she had decided to play along with the joke. She told me not to worry, but she had this mournful expression, as if her cat had died.
— Damn, what a family! — Kira shook her head. — Well, forget them. You still have a week. Maybe you should announce that the wedding is canceled yourself?
— Don’t frighten me! — Zoya protested. — I chased that man for far too long to do that! I love him.
— Yes, just as I loved Boris. Then I couldn’t get him out of my apartment, — Kira snorted.
— Don’t compare your lazy bum to Ruslan! — Zoya said, offended.
— All right, we’re here. Let’s go! — Kira rose when she spotted the familiar storefronts through the window.
Half an hour later, Zoya was clutching a box containing the precious gold-colored shoes to her chest. They were exactly what she had dreamed of finding. She took a picture and sent it to Ruslan, but he did not react.
Even after she returned home, there were still no messages from him.
— Fine, I’ll show you properly now, — Zoya muttered.
When Inga saw the sandals, she squealed with delight and immediately tried them on.
— They actually look perfect on me! Will you give them to me afterward? — her younger sister asked, admiring the reflection of her feet in the mirror.
— Absolutely not! Let your Eduard buy you a pair, — Zoya replied.
— His mother won’t give him any money, — Inga said sadly.
— Exactly! What kind of boyfriend is he if he can’t even buy you ice cream?
— He buys me ice cream! It’s the more expensive presents that are a problem, — Inga said, defending her boyfriend.
Zoya hugged her sister and kissed the top of her head.
— Don’t be offended, but these are my shoes. I’m wearing them to the registry office.
Inga sighed heavily.
— Damn, it isn’t fair! Why are you the older one? I want to get married too!
Their mother, Yulia Romanovna, entered the room.
— I don’t need two disasters in the same year! Be patient. You still need to graduate from university.
— But, Mom! — Inga pleaded.
— Calm down. Love is blind, — their mother remarked philosophically.
— Yes, go on and say, “You may even fall in love with a goat,” — Inga snorted.
— Do you already have one—a goat? — Zoya teased her sister.
— Mine is handsome! Well, he’s a little… — Inga hesitated.
— Of course he’s handsome, — Zoya agreed, looking at her phone again.
There was still no reply from Ruslan.
She dialed his number. The phone rang for a long time before he finally answered.
— Why the hell have you been silent?! I sent you the shoes—the gold shoes that match my dress!
— Which dress? — Ruslan asked indifferently.
Zoya rolled her eyes, entered her bedroom, and opened the wardrobe. Her wedding dress, embroidered with golden thread, was hanging inside.
— You have three guesses. A red bow, golden thread, an open back…
— I understand. You can stop. The dress, — Ruslan interrupted.
— How clever of you, — Zoya said sarcastically as she opened the box and admired the shoes. — So, did you like them?
— Why did you buy them? — Her fiancé’s voice sounded strangely distant.
Zoya became indignant.
— Have you overheated or something? Our wedding is on Friday!
Ruslan lowered his voice, apparently covering the microphone with his hand.
— Didn’t you understand?
— Understand what? — Zoya asked in surprise.
— What do you mean, “what”?! I told you there wouldn’t be a wedding!
— What?!
— What, what? — he mimicked her. — I told you in plain language that there wouldn’t be a wedding! Do you need me to write it down and sign it for you?
Zoya laughed nervously as she watched Inga take out the shoes and walk around the room in them again.
— But it was a joke! — she whispered into the phone.
— I’m sorry I had to tell you on April Fools’ Day, but it wasn’t a joke. There really won’t be a wedding. I’m sorry.
Zoya sat down on the sofa.
— What happened? How can there be no wedding? Why?
— It doesn’t matter. There simply won’t be one. Accept it as a fact. I’m sorry, but I have to go. Bye.
The line went silent, leaving Zoya alone with agonizing uncertainty. She kept the phone pressed to her ear as if expecting Ruslan’s voice to return and say, “It was a joke!”
But the screen went dark, and with it faded her last hope that this was merely another prank.
— You were unbelievably lucky with those shoes! — Inga exclaimed, unaware of her sister’s condition. — I thought you’d wear the cream ones, but these are absolutely gorgeous!
Zoya remained silent, staring into space. Her sister’s words seemed to come from far away, muffled as if through cotton.
— What happened? — Inga finally noticed Zoya’s pale face. — Did someone die?
Zoya stood abruptly and hurried toward the door.
— I don’t know, — she whispered as she left the room.
The bathroom door slammed shut behind her. Before Zoya disappeared inside, Yulia Romanovna saw tears streaming down her daughter’s cheeks.
— What happened? — the mother asked, entering her younger daughter’s bedroom.
Inga shrugged.
— I have no idea. I was trying on the shoes, and she was talking to her boyfriend, and then…
— Take the shoes off, — her mother interrupted. — Your sister is probably upset.
— It isn’t my fault! — Inga protested. — She didn’t mind!
Nevertheless, she removed the shoes and carefully placed them back in the box.
Yulia Romanovna approached the bathroom door and knocked.
— What happened?
She heard crying behind the door. She was about to knock again but stopped when she heard Zoya turn on the water to drown out her sobs.
“Oh, this love,” Yulia Romanovna thought. “Three years of frayed nerves, and then…”
She remembered her own life. During the first years of her marriage, she and her husband had argued so bitterly that they had almost divorced. Then everything settled down, and, as people said, true love finally came.
Unfortunately, that love had not lasted long. Her husband died only eight years later. Their life together had barely begun when he passed away.
Yulia Romanovna sighed and walked toward the kitchen. On the way, she told Inga:
— Leave her alone. She’ll calm down and come out.
— What happened? — her younger daughter asked.
— The same thing that happens between you and Eduard, — her mother replied. — All right, that’s enough talking. Let’s have dinner.
— What about her? — Inga nodded toward the bathroom.
— Later. The most important thing right now is not to disturb her.
Nearly an hour must have passed. Yulia Romanovna approached the door several times, knocked, asked what had happened, and begged her daughter to open it. Zoya replied only:
— Not now.
At last, she came out. Inga had already gone outside. When her mother heard the bathroom door opening, she immediately rose from the sofa and went to her daughter.
— What happened? — she asked.
Zoya covered her mouth with her hand again, on the verge of tears.
— Did you have an argument? — her mother guessed.
— No, — Zoya whispered. — He said there wouldn’t be a wedding.
Yulia Romanovna gasped.
— What do you mean, there won’t be a wedding?
Zoya sat in the armchair and shrugged. Her eyes were lowered and her shoulders slumped.
— I don’t know, — she whispered. — When I was at his house today, he said there wouldn’t be a wedding. But I thought it was a joke. Even his sister got angry with him. Victoria Alexeyevna, though… I think she already knew. She told me not to be upset. I thought it was a joke—I honestly did. Then I went with Kira to buy shoes for the dress. When I called him back, he said quite seriously that it hadn’t been a joke and that there wouldn’t be a wedding.
— This is madness, — her mother said indignantly. — What kind of cruel joke is that?
She picked up the phone, dialed the future mother-in-law’s number, and walked toward the kitchen. Zoya heard only fragments of the conversation:
— What do you mean, “there won’t be a wedding”?… How?… Someone decided?… When?… Couldn’t he have come and spoken to her properly?… Why do it in such an idiotic way?… It’s disgraceful!… Does he have no heart at all?… And you?…
Then there was silence.
Zoya had received confirmation: Ruslan had not been joking. There really would be no wedding. His mother had known about it and remained silent.
“Why?” Zoya asked herself.
Her mother returned, placed a hand on her shoulder, and Zoya leaned her head against its comforting warmth.
— Victoria Alexeyevna said Ruslan decided to cancel the wedding a week ago, — her mother said.
— What? — Zoya gasped. — But he and I…
— Coward, — her mother interrupted. — He couldn’t tell you immediately. He waited deliberately for April Fools’ Day so he could announce it as a joke, and then…
— What exactly did she say? — Zoya interrupted.
— I spoke to Victoria Alexeyevna. Even if she knows the reason, she wouldn’t tell me. There are always two possible reasons. The first is that he stopped liking you or something about you made him suspicious. Perhaps Timur.
— But I’m not dating him! — Zoya protested.
— And the second possibility is that Ruslan has someone else.
Zoya lowered her head, feeling tears roll down her cheeks again.
— It isn’t fair, — she whispered.
— He’s simply a coward, — her mother said. — And you really must accept it. I feel terribly sorry for you, but at the same time, I’m glad this happened.
— Mom, how can you say that? — Zoya protested. — I love him. I…
— What if you had discovered it after you were married? — her mother interrupted. — He would either have cheated on you or become irrationally jealous. Neither is any better. That’s why I say it may be for the best. Now you know he’s a coward. He couldn’t speak honestly to you. He waited for an entire week. For a whole week, he came to our home, smiled, drank tea at our table, and discussed the wedding while already knowing it wouldn’t happen. That was vile, disgusting, and unworthy of a man.
Yulia Romanovna sat opposite her daughter. They remained silent for a while before the mother spoke again.
— Don’t despair. You deserve genuine love, not this counterfeit version. Believe me, you will find it. Keep your chin up—you have always found a way out of difficult situations.
They sat silently again.
— What do we do now? — Zoya asked.
— I’ll deal with the relatives. I can speak to your friends too.
— No, I’ll talk to my friends myself. What about the reception?
— Don’t worry. It isn’t our problem. Victoria Alexeyevna covered all the expenses. I don’t think she’ll lose much. There’s still time, so they should refund the deposit.
— My dress, my gold shoes… — Zoya said sadly.
— You know what? — A triumphant note entered her mother’s voice.
Zoya involuntarily looked up.
— What?
Her mother smiled.
— He thinks you’re devastated and suffering. Perhaps he even feels satisfied. So prove to him that you’re happy—genuinely happy—without him and without his false love.
There was a moment of silence.
— You can do that, can’t you?
Zoya looked at her mother and her encouraging smile, then nodded.
— Yes. To hell with him!
— That’s my girl! — her mother exclaimed. — Now go wash your face, and then we’ll have dinner.
— Mom, I don’t want…
— This is not open for discussion. The time for suffering is over. That’s it. You’ve decided to be happy, so start being happy at this very moment. Or are you going to give him exactly what he wants? — She meant Ruslan. — Are you going to suffer, cry, call him, and beg him to change his mind?
Zoya straightened up.
— Never! I will never beg him, and I won’t call him. Yes, I will be happy!
— Then why are you still sitting there? — her mother asked. — Get into the kitchen. I’ll heat up dinner.
Zoya stood, walked over, and embraced her mother.
— Thank you, Mom. What would I do without you?
— Without me, you might have cried for a day or even a week, but then… — Her mother looked into her eyes. — You would have become happy anyway.
— Let’s go to the kitchen, — Zoya said, taking her mother by the arm.
Inga returned half an hour later. When she learned that the wedding had been canceled, she appeared far more distressed than Zoya. She ran into her room and began quietly crying.
Zoya sat beside her on the bed and embraced her.
— What’s wrong with you? It was my wedding. I’m the one who’s supposed to cry.
Inga sniffled and raised her tear-stained eyes.
— You’ve already had your turn. Now let me cry.
Zoya smiled gently.
— All right, go ahead and cry.
— I’ll never forgive him! — Inga declared. — He’ll be the one crying soon. He’ll beg you to…
— Get that nonsense out of your head, — Zoya interrupted. — You have Eduard.
Inga abruptly sat up, her eyes narrowing predatorily.
— Yes, that’s right! I have Eduard.
She picked up her phone and left the room. About ten minutes later, she returned wearing a satisfied smile.
— Well, did you have a sweet little conversation with your Eduard? — Zoya teased.
— Yes, — Inga replied, and that single word carried a great deal of meaning.
Zoya knew her sister. When she spoke like that, trouble was coming.
— Can I sleep with you tonight? — Inga asked.
— You’re a grown girl, — Zoya said in surprise.
— Then can I at least lie here for a while?
— All right.
Half an hour later, the doorbell rang at Ruslan’s house. Larisa reached the door first. She opened it and saw a deliveryman holding around ten pizza boxes. Their aroma filled the entire stairwell.
— Hello, — Larisa said.
— The order is for the person at this address. Please sign here, — said the courier.
Without thinking, Larisa signed and returned the receipt.
— Is all of this for us? — she asked in surprise.
— Yes. Meat, chicken, fish, shrimp—it’s all yours. Here you go.
He handed her the boxes.
As soon as the door closed, Ruslan entered the hallway.
— What’s that?
— I don’t know. It was ordered in your name, — Larisa replied.
— I didn’t order anything.
— How should I know? Here, take them. Why did you order so many? We’ll never eat all this.
— I didn’t order them! — Ruslan protested.
— I don’t know. Deal with it yourself. Take them, will you? — Larisa removed the top box and went to her room.
Victoria Alexeyevna immediately appeared.
— What’s going on?
— I have no idea. Perhaps they made a mistake, — Ruslan said with a shrug.
— If it was a mistake, why did you accept the order?
— Ask her. — Ruslan nodded toward his sister’s closed bedroom door.
His mother made a suggestion:
— Perhaps they confused the date, and this was ordered for the wedding?
— What damn wedding?! I didn’t order anything, and as far as I know, neither did you. — He carried the boxes into the kitchen.
The doorbell rang again.
— Who is it now? — Ruslan grumbled.
— I’ll open it! It might be Pavel! — Larisa shouted, running toward the door.
Ruslan opened one pizza box and looked inside. It made him hungry, but he decided he should not eat any before calling the company. He was looking for the telephone number on the box when Larisa returned carrying ten more pizza boxes.
— What the hell?! — Ruslan exploded.
— What does it have to do with me? They delivered an order, and I’m giving it to you. Perhaps you decided to throw a party. How should I know? Take them!
Ruslan automatically stretched out his arms and accepted the ten additional boxes.
His mother stared at him in confusion.
— Call the company. Perhaps they really did get the address wrong.
Ruslan went to his room, picked up his phone, and started calling.
The doorbell rang again. Ruslan saw Larisa rush from her room to answer it.
— If it’s pizza, don’t accept it! — he shouted.
Ruslan spoke to the company. They told him that an order had been placed, completed, and paid for. The address was correct; there had been no mistake.
“What the hell is going on?” Ruslan wondered.
At that moment, his phone beeped. Then it beeped again, followed by a third, fourth, fifth, and sixth time.
He quickly opened the messages. They were notifications about money being charged to his bank account.
A displeased Larisa entered the kitchen.
— The pizzas are in the hallway. Go and collect them yourself.
— I didn’t order them! — Ruslan screamed.
— Right, and you didn’t pay for them with your own bank card either. Go and get them yourself. If you’re going to eat them, one box will be enough for me.
Just to be safe, she grabbed another box and ran back to her room.
— Damn it! — Ruslan swore.
— What kind of idiotic joke is this? — his mother demanded.
— A joke… That’s it! It’s a joke! — Ruslan said quietly.
His phone beeped again. He opened the message and saw another charge. He shouted and ran to find his bank card. It was still in his pocket, yet money continued disappearing from his account.
He could not understand what was happening. With trembling fingers, he tried to call the bank and block the card.
Another text arrived—another charge.
Mentally, Ruslan added ten more pizzas to the total. At last, the card was blocked.
Victoria Alexeyevna looked at her son.
— What are you going to do with all of this?
— I have no idea, — Ruslan replied, heading toward the hallway.
His sister had already stacked the pizzas into an enormous tower.
The doorbell rang. Ruslan reluctantly opened it, and another ten boxes were immediately thrust into his hands.
That evening became a living nightmare for him. Ninety pizzas were delivered in total. Only a few hours later did he understand how they had been paid for. Long ago, he had activated automatic payment at the pizzeria for orders delivered to his address. Now it had cost him a considerable sum.
But Ruslan had no idea what awaited him the next day.
He sent some boxes to friends. His sister took several to visit her friends, and his mother distributed some among the neighbors. Most of the pizzas, however, simply had to be thrown away.
The following day, close to lunchtime, Ruslan finally arrived at work, exhausted after the previous night’s problems. The moment he entered his office, Nikolai approached him.
— My condolences, — his friend said solemnly.
Ruslan assumed that Nikolai had heard about the canceled wedding. He waved dismissively and muttered:
— You have no idea what she did. She had pizzas sent to my address.
— Who did? — Nikolai asked in surprise.
Ruslan dropped into his chair and stretched out his legs.
— Zoya.
— So she ordered pizza. What’s the big deal? — Nikolai shrugged.
Ruslan jumped up.
— What’s the big deal? She ordered ninety of them! And I paid for everything!
Nikolai glanced around and lowered his voice.
— Listen, April Fools’ Day was yesterday. Today is April second. It’s time to come to your senses. And by the way, they’re waiting for you out there… — He glanced toward the door. — Well, accept my condolences.
Nikolai approached and patted Ruslan on the shoulder.
“What the hell are these condolences for?” Ruslan wondered.
He stood, left his office, and froze.
The entire department—about fifty people—stood facing him with gloomy expressions. Olya, their secretary, stepped forward. She was always the organizer who took responsibility whenever something happened.
Now she was holding a funeral wreath.
— Please accept our condolences, — Olya said quietly.
Ruslan noticed that she was on the verge of tears.
— Condolences for what? — he asked softly.
— Well, for the death, of course, — Maxim answered, handing Ruslan a second wreath.
— Whose death? — Ruslan stammered.
He looked at the wreath. A black ribbon with golden lettering read: “My condolences.”
Ruslan felt sick. For one horrifying moment, it seemed as though his heart had stopped. Some idiot had sent funeral wreaths to his office as if they were intended for his grave.
His vision darkened, and he did not even notice himself sitting down. Someone placed a glass of water in his hand, and he took a deep drink.
— When were these delivered? — Ruslan finally asked.
— This morning, — Olya replied. — There are three more. I’ll bring them in now.
He wanted to say that it was unnecessary, but Maxim had already rushed away and was dragging in the damned wreaths.
Ruslan suspected exactly who was behind it.
— Damn Zoya, — he muttered.
No one else could have taken revenge on him in such a subtle and vicious way.
“Damn you,” he added silently.
Then another thought flashed through his mind:
“Who paid for them?”
He rushed back into his office. Olya and Maxim were already arranging the wreaths along the wall. Ruslan grabbed his phone and checked it.
Another bank message. More money had been charged.
— What the hell?! — he shouted.
Olya assumed that his words were directed at her. Looking embarrassed, she repeated:
— My condolences.
She nudged Maxim, and they left the room, closing the door behind them.
— She’s trying to bankrupt me! — Ruslan said to himself. — She’s humiliated me in front of the entire staff!
He walked over and kicked one of the wreaths.
His phone rang. It was his mother. He answered immediately. Victoria Alexeyevna’s voice sounded distinctly displeased.
— What kind of performance have you arranged now? — she asked.
— What happened this time? — Ruslan was still staring at the damned wreaths.
— Have you completely lost your mind? — his mother continued.
— I don’t understand what you’re talking about.
As if he did not already have enough problems, now his mother was being mysterious.
— You sent photographs of yourself to all our relatives! It’s shameful! A disgrace! Have you completely lost your mind?
Through clenched teeth, Ruslan said:
— Mom, explain what happened.
Victoria Alexeyevna immediately replied:
— You sent them a photograph of yourself without any trousers!
Ruslan genuinely felt ill.
Of course, such a photograph existed. Who had never taken an intimate picture? Zoya had photographed him in her room when her mother and sister were away at their country house. At the time, Zoya had admired his body, though there was not much to admire. He was thin, with a small protruding belly.
And now that was the photograph she had sent to his relatives.
— Idiot! — Ruslan swore.
His mother thought he was insulting her and immediately snapped:
— Don’t you dare raise your voice at me, you wretch! What am I supposed to tell them now—that you’re some kind of pervert?
— Mom, I didn’t do it!
— You’ll have to explain that to them yourself! A grown man behaving like this! Oh God, I’m so ashamed! I hope you didn’t send it to your boss!
— What?! — Ruslan was visibly frightened.
Imagining that all his employees might have received the photograph, he walked to the door, opened it, and looked into the main office. Several people glanced at him, but their eyes contained only sympathy. No one was smirking.
That meant the picture had been sent only to his relatives.
It did not make him feel much better.
The rest of the day passed like a nightmare. The wreaths stood in the corner of his office, a constant reminder of their mournful presence. Ruslan had no idea what to do with them. Carrying them out in front of everyone would be even more humiliating, so he had no choice but to wait until the office was empty.
His phone rang. It was an unknown number.
— Hello, — Ruslan answered.
— Ruslanchik! — A sweet female voice sounded on the other end. — Good afternoon! How are you feeling?
— Fine. Who is this? — he asked suspiciously.
— Angelina, — the woman giggled. — I can come to see you in about an hour. Please give me the address.
Ruslan mechanically gave her his office address before wondering why the hell he had done so.
— Why do you need it? — he asked.
The woman giggled again.
— Well, you ordered my services!
Ruslan understood immediately. Zoya had gone further—she had ordered a prostitute for him.
— No, thank you. My plans have changed. Don’t come. Goodbye.
He ended the call and quietly growled.
But that was only the beginning.
Five minutes later, a different number called. Another woman announced that she was ready to leave immediately. Ruslan had to apologize and explain that his plans had changed and he no longer needed her.
Ten minutes later, another call came.
By the time Ruslan reached home, six different women had called him.
At home, his mother subjected him to a full-scale interrogation about the morning’s photographs.
— Do you understand what you’ve done?! — Victoria Alexeyevna shouted. — Aunt Raya called me, and her blood pressure went through the roof! Uncle Kolya says he never wants to see you again!
Between her screams, the phone kept ringing, and every time Ruslan answered:
— No, thank you. My plans have changed. I don’t need anyone today.
— Are you even listening to me?! — his mother yelled.
What could he do? He blocked the numbers, but every call came from a different phone.
The calls continued at midnight and even at one in the morning.
— Rusik, are you sure you haven’t changed your mind? — another voice purred. — I have a very interesting program prepared for you…
Ruslan finally had to turn off his phone so he could get at least a little sleep.
When he switched it on the following morning, he found thirty-seven missed calls. Messages arrived one after another:
“Ruslanchik, I waited for you all night!”
“Darling, why aren’t you answering?”
“Sweetheart, perhaps we could still meet?”
Ruslan swore and headed toward the bathroom. Larisa was already sitting in the kitchen, eating a sandwich and smiling maliciously.
— You’ve become very popular with the ladies, — she said. — Your phone kept making noises all night. Mom thought you had died.
— Shut up, — Ruslan muttered.
— I like your Zoya, — his sister continued. — She’s creative. It’s a shame you left her. Resourceful women like that are rare.
Ruslan wanted to answer, but his phone rang again. He glanced at the screen. Another unknown number.
— What the hell is this?! — he shouted, rejecting the call.
— You shouldn’t hang up, — Larisa advised. — Talk to the women. Perhaps you’ll like one of them.
Victoria Alexeyevna entered the kitchen with a gloomy expression.
— Aunt Zina called. Apparently, she showed your photograph to her neighbor. Now the entire building knows her nephew is a pervert.
— Mom, I told you—it wasn’t me!
— Then who was it? It’s your photograph! — his mother snapped. — And don’t tell me someone hacked your phone. You admitted yourself that it was Zoya.
The phone rang again. Ruslan rejected the call.
— You see? — his mother nodded. — I suppose you ordered all these women too. A grown man behaving like a teenager!
— Zoya ordered them! — Ruslan shouted. — She’s taking revenge on me!
— Why would she take revenge on you? — Larisa asked in surprise. — You’re the one who left her.
Ruslan realized that explaining was pointless. He grabbed his jacket and ran out of the house, leaving his phone behind. They could answer the calls from those damned women themselves.
Meanwhile, Zoya was sitting on the sofa beside Inga and listening to her sister talk about a walk with Eduard.
— Guess what? I saw Timur today, — Inga said, taking a bite from an apple. — Your Timur. The one who always gave you chocolate bars.
Zoya raised her eyes from her phone.
— He isn’t mine. So what if you saw him?
— Nothing special, — Inga said with a shrug. — I just liked him more than any of the others as a potential husband for you. But you chose the man who dumped you on April Fools’ Day.
— Thank you for reminding me, — Zoya replied dryly.
Inga turned toward her sister.
— Are you going to see him?
— See whom? — Zoya asked.
— Timur, obviously.
— Can you imagine how that would look? — Zoya protested. — I’ve only just broken up with one man, and immediately I go running to another?
— It doesn’t matter how it looks! — Inga waved her hands. — You love him!
— No, he’s only a friend.
— Exes can never be friends, — Inga declared authoritatively.
Zoya looked at her sister and giggled.
— How would you know that?
— You can trust my life experience.
— Yes, fifteen years is a great deal of experience, — Zoya replied sarcastically.
— Don’t laugh! — Inga said, offended. — I’ve had three boyfriends, and Eduard is the fourth. So, should I call Timur and arrange a meeting for you?
— Don’t even think about it, or you’ll be sorry! — Zoya warned sternly.
— I’m not suggesting you meet him immediately, — Inga said soothingly. — Perhaps tomorrow or the day after…
— Please don’t interfere in my personal life, all right?
— All right, all right, — Inga agreed. — By the way, has your ex called?
Zoya picked up her phone and looked at the screen. Inga could tell from her expression that he had not.
— Don’t worry. He’ll call, — the younger sister said encouragingly.
— I don’t need him, — Zoya replied firmly. — Mom is right. I need to forget him.
She picked up her phone and almost added Ruslan’s number to the blocked list but changed her mind. Zoya remembered her mother’s words: Ruslan was probably expecting her to be devastated by the canceled wedding and their destroyed relationship.
Her mother had advised her to be strong and happy—exactly what Ruslan would not expect.
Zoya smiled, opened her phone’s photo gallery, and began looking through her pictures. She scrolled for a long time until she found the one she wanted.
There she was with Timur. It had been taken in early spring. Wearing a light coat, she was pressed against him, and he held her so warmly and tenderly.
Zoya sighed involuntarily as she remembered the moment the photograph had been taken. She had kissed him that evening—not much, but she had kissed him. A month later, Ruslan appeared, and her relationship with Timur became nothing more than friendship.
Inga was sitting beside her. She looked at the screen and whispered:
— Yes, yes. That’s exactly what you should send him.
It was as if her sister had read her mind.
— Don’t you think it will break his heart? — Zoya asked doubtfully.
— To hell with his heart, if he even has one! — Inga replied heatedly. — Go on, send it!
Zoya hesitated for several seconds, even though she had already made her decision. Finally, she pressed the button, and the photograph of her and Timur was sent to Ruslan.
Then she sent the same picture to Victoria Alexeyevna and, of course, to Larisa.
— That’s it, — Inga whispered. — Now we wait.
— For what? — Zoya asked.
— For the volcano to erupt, — her sister replied meaningfully.
Ruslan returned home around lunchtime, tired and irritated. He had spent the entire day at the office without his phone, and now countless missed calls from persistent women awaited him.
He switched on the phone and immediately saw a new message from Zoya. He opened it and froze.
In the photograph, Zoya was pressed tenderly against Timur, who held her as though she belonged only to him. The picture had clearly been taken while they were still dating, but Ruslan had never seen it before.
— Bitch! — he hissed through clenched teeth.
There was a knock on the door. Larisa entered with a satisfied smile.
— Did you see it? — she asked, holding up her phone.
— See what? — Ruslan muttered gloomily.
— Your Zoya with her new boyfriend. They’re a beautiful couple, by the way. He looks much better than you.
— Shut up, — Ruslan snapped.
— Oh, someone is nervous! — Larisa giggled. — Are you jealous? You’re the one who left her!
Ruslan threw his phone onto the bed and stared out of the window. Inside, he was boiling with anger and—yes—jealousy.
He imagined Zoya kissing Timur, laughing at his jokes, and planning a future with him.
— She was crying over me only yesterday! — he blurted out.
— And today she’s finding comfort in another man’s arms, — Larisa added with obvious delight. — She moves quickly! You underestimated her, dear brother.
— Get out of my room! — Ruslan shouted.
Larisa shrugged and walked toward the door, but paused at the threshold.
— You know what? I’m glad everything is working out so well for her. After the despicable way you treated her, she deserves to be happy.
The door slammed, leaving Ruslan alone with his tormenting thoughts.
The volcano did indeed erupt early the next morning.
Victoria Alexeyevna called Zoya and, almost swearing, began calling her a cheater and a fallen woman. She used so many expressions that Zoya almost wanted to write them down, but she could not keep up.
Victoria Alexeyevna continued talking and talking until Zoya burst out laughing so brightly that her former future mother-in-law immediately fell silent.
— What are you laughing at? — the woman asked.
— You’re hardly in a position to accuse me, — Zoya replied. — While your son was dating me and preparing for the wedding, you already knew it wouldn’t happen. And now you dare accuse me of cheating? Why don’t you ask your son who he was cheating on me with?
That unleashed a new storm.
Victoria Alexeyevna continued accusing Zoya while also telling her about the pizzas, the intimate photograph of her son, the funeral wreaths at his workplace, and the advertisements posted on an escort website.
After listening to the long list, Zoya turned toward her sister.
Inga merely shrugged, as if to say, “It has nothing to do with me. He started it.”
Zoya saw no reason to continue listening to Victoria Alexeyevna’s rant and ended the call.
Ruslan immediately called her. But instead of attacking her, he unexpectedly began apologizing and asking her to stop.
Zoya did not listen to him either. What was the point of wasting her time? Did he really believe she would fall to her knees and wag her tail for him?
She merely wished him a pleasant day and told him to expect more surprises.
Of course, Zoya had no intention of doing anything else. But the words “expect” and “surprises” would clearly upset Ruslan. Now he would spend another week constantly looking over his shoulder, waiting for new and genuinely unexpected surprises.
After ending the call, Zoya turned toward her sister and glared angrily into her eyes.
— What have you done? — she hissed.
— Zoya, what did I do? Nothing! — Inga defended herself. — It was April Fools’ Day, so we decided to play a few jokes. Eduard has such an imagination—you wouldn’t believe it! We also wanted to…
— Enough! — Zoya interrupted. — I think Ruslan will remember breaking off this engagement for the rest of his life. And his mother seems to have turned gray overnight.
— You know, gray hair will suit her, — Inga giggled. — Perhaps it’ll make her face look intelligent.
— Promise you won’t do anything else, — Zoya demanded sternly.
Inga placed one hand over her heart, raised the other, and announced solemnly:
— I swear!
Zoya narrowed her eyes. Whenever her sister spoke like that, it meant she still had several backup ideas.
— All right. Fine. I forgive you.
At once, Inga threw her arms around her sister’s neck and began kissing her cheek.
— Will you give me the shoes? — she whispered in Zoya’s ear.
Zoya giggled.
— I’ll let you wear them to your graduation, but only to your graduation. No wedding—I’m getting married first!
— Fine. Graduation. You’ll be first, — Inga agreed. — That means I can call Timur today.
Zoya immediately shouted, though the shout was cheerful and mixed with laughter.
— Stop it! I’ll deal with Timur—and anyone else—myself. Please don’t ruin anything.
Inga raised her hand again and announced solemnly:
— I swear!
At that moment, Yulia Romanovna entered the room.
— All right, girls, breakfast is ready! Let’s go!
The sisters exchanged glances, jumped off the bed, and rushed toward the kitchen, squealing.
During breakfast, Yulia Romanovna watched her daughters carefully. Both of them were far too lively for the morning after such a dramatic story.
— You two seem suspiciously cheerful, — she observed as she poured the tea.
— What am I supposed to do, pretend to be grief-stricken? — Zoya shrugged. — Just as you said, everything has worked out for the best.
— Yes, Mom, — Inga added. — Zoya is free now and can choose from a multitude of admirers!
Yulia Romanovna looked suspiciously at her younger daughter.
— And what exactly does any of this have to do with you?
— Me? I’m simply happy for my sister! — Inga smiled innocently.
Zoya knew that smile and realized it was too early to relax. For now, however, she wanted only to enjoy breakfast with her family without thinking about yesterday’s drama or tomorrow’s plans.
Her phone rang again. Zoya glanced at the screen.
Ruslan again.
— Don’t answer, — her mother advised.
— I wasn’t planning to, — Zoya said with a smile as she rejected the call.
— Good, — Inga approved. — Let him suffer.
Yulia Romanovna gave her younger daughter a stern look.
— And you, young lady, should gloat a little less. It’s unbecoming.
— All right, Mom, — Inga agreed obediently, though mischievous sparks were still dancing in her eyes.
Zoya finished her tea and rose from the table.
— I’m going to make myself presentable. I want to look especially good today.
— Are you going somewhere? — her mother asked.
— I don’t know yet. But life goes on, doesn’t it?
Zoya headed toward her room, leaving her mother and sister to discuss the morning’s events.
“A woman may forgive an injury, but she will never forget it.”
— Arthur Schopenhauer
